


Apollo and Lightening

by the_intrepid_poet16



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Cross Over, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 16:45:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_intrepid_poet16/pseuds/the_intrepid_poet16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A cross over between Les Miserables and Percy Jackson and the Olympians. Enjolras has always been known as rebellious, but he doesn't have any clue what he's meant to do with his life. On top of that, every school he gets admitted to usually kicks him right out, and his mother's health is falling fast. He's never met his father, and doesn't care to. His life takes a drastic turn when he and his friend Marius are attacked by a dragon. This battle quickly lands him at Camp Half Blood, where he meets other kids like him. Unlike all of his newfound friends, though, Enjolras hasn't been claimed by his Divine mother or father. Things take a turn for the worse when Ares, the God of War, takes over management of the Camp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lights Break and So Does a Nose

**Author's Note:**

> You guys can totally review this too. Please.

“Let’s see how high you can really soar, lover-boy!”

            I honestly wasn’t surprised when I rounded the corner of the hall and saw Marius pushed up against the wall. Three boys surrounded him; his usual tormenters. The guy couldn’t go one day without getting threatened in some way. What else did he expect, though? When he wasn’t going on and on about his girlfriend Colette… Wait, no, Cassette? Never mind. Anyway, he was either spouting horrible poetry (I use the term very loosely) or giving his very loud, and very unpopular opinion about something. He was barely tolerated, and I’m surprised he survived Senior year. Maybe I helped a little, but still. More often than not I was breaking up his fights. Marius had… Attached himself to me and we nearly had a parasitic relationship. Nearly. He can hold his own in a fight… When he isn’t outnumbered.

            “Hey!” I called, getting their attention, “Put him down. School’s almost out so why bother with him?” We graduate in three days. I really didn’t see why these guys kept this up. It’s not like they’d ever see Marius again. The ringleader, a real jerk named Eric, rounded on me. His buddies looked, but kept a hold on Marius.

            “Just get out of here _Enjy_ ,” Eric sneered –God I hated that name, “This isn’t any of your business. Why don’t you just run home to Mommy and Daddy?”

            My jaw locked and I glared at Eric. It was my business because (as much as I hated to say it) Marius was my only “friend” in this entire school. If the situation were reversed, I know he’d come to my aid. Besides, I hated bullies. Actually, I hated anyone who thought themselves above everyone. Eric certainly qualified. I wouldn’t be running. I never ran from anything, and… Well, I didn’t really have anywhere to run to. And Eric knew that.

            “Wait, Eric,” his buddy, Carlos I think, spoke up, “There’s something wrong with that. Enjy here got dumped by his Daddy and his Mommy’s probably gonna die soon. Probably his fault for being such a trouble-maker too!” His laughter was cut off when I glared hard at him. Electricity popped around us, but I hardly noticed. No one –I mean _no one_ \- talked about my mother like that. Unfortunately it was true; she was in the hospital; but it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t; no matter what anyone said. As for my father, if he didn’t want me, then I didn’t want him. I didn’t need him. I just had to keep telling myself that.

            Normally a glare would be enough to scare them away. But apparently Eric grew a backbone. It was thick one too.

            He strolled right up to me and shoved me, making me stumble. I heard Marius whimper. Really? “No one wants you, Enjolras. No one ever will. You could disappear and no one would give a damn. You don’t belong anywhere. No one loves you, not even your stupid mother!”

            It takes a lot to make me snap. I can take an insult with a pretty level-head, but certain things can get to me. What Eric said about not belonging, for example. I can cound thow many schools I’ve been out of with both hands and a foot. Things just happen to me that I can’t explain. Stating fights, disrupting class, disrespecting teachers, being rebellious; the list goes on. Doctors blame it on the ADHD and dyslexia. I try to believe them, but after a while you tend to side with the people who call you a freak.

I guess that was the second line Eric crossed. The third was what he said about my mother. After that, I snapped. And when I snap, I _snap_. The hall went dark as the flurecent lights broke all at once. I ignored it and punched Eric right in the nose, feeling the cartilage break under my fist. Carlos was on his knees after a hard kick. The big guy (his name didn’t matter to me) dropped Marius and rounded on me, swinging hard. Somehow, I knew the hit was coming and ducked out of the way. But even in the dark, this guy was a better fighter than Carlos and Eric. He landed a hard punch on my stomach, making me double over.

While I tried to catch my breath, Marius shouted, “Enjolras, look out!” I was about to tell him to shut up and help when I sensed someone behind me. This next part happened very slowly. Eric was charging me from behind. I very easily stepped to the side, grabbed him by the shirt collar and seat of his pants, and tossed him through the air. He collided with his big friend and the two of them flew back against the other wall. The lockers behind them groaned and bent under the impact. I stared down at my hands incredulously. Had I really just…? No way. That wasn’t possible. A girl screamed down the hall, but I didn’t look; I was still too shocked by what I had just done. Marius grabbed my shoulder and tugged me away. Numbly, I went with him, not really caring where I was going.

Mostly because his shoe had fallen off and there was a goat hoof where his foot should’ve been. “You… You have a goat hoof?” I asked.

“Well, of course I do!”

Leave it to Marius to be casual about all of this…


	2. An Old Friend Comes to Visit

            As we ran through the streets, my mind kept flashing back to the busted lockers. No way anyone could throw two people that hard. No way _I_ could ever throw anyone that hard. Yes, I’ve been known to break a few noses (Marius knows this well) but there was no way all of _that_ could be humanly possible!

            And on top of that I had Marius the Goatboy leading me around. It was quite frankly too much to process all at once. I came to a stop, and Marius tried tugging me along, but I just ripped my hand out of his grasp. “Just give me a minute,” I hissed, leaning against the brick wall of the alley for support. “What are you?”

            “Oh. I’m a Saytr.”

            “Excuse me?”

            “You know, half man half goat?”

            I blinked hard at Marius for a moment. He was serious. It wasn’t a question. He was convinced he was half-goat. I looked down again at his foot, as if somehow it would be normal again. It was still a hoof. Now that I was looking, I could see some fur peeking out from his jeans. I shook my head and leaned back against the wall. Everything was changing too fast. One minute I was a “rebellious” High School Senior, and the next I’m some kind of super-strong freak with a goat for a sidekick. Well… The “freak” part hadn’t exactly changed.

            “Enjolras, we really need to get going. I’ll explain more once we get to Camp,” Marius said urgently.

            I narrowed my eyes at him, “Camp? What Camp?” This really didn’t seem like the best time to go camping. Marius just looked behind me and his eyes got very wide.

            “We need to go, now!” he yelled, reaching out to grab my arm. Someone else beat him to it. I flinched and looked right at the guy holding me and froze. I knew that face. He called himself an Inspector –not exactly a dectective, but along the same lines. He’d been tailing me ever since I was very young. Whenever something went wrong, he’d be right there. Javert was his name, and he made sure I never forgot it.

            The Inspector sneered down at me, tightening his grip on my wrist, “Well, well, well, what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time, Christian?” I hated my first name. My father had picked it. I wanted nothing to do with him, so I just went by my mother’s name.

            I tried to pull away, but his grip was stronger than it normally was. “Let go of me!” I demanded, glaring at him. The glare faltered when he smiled.

            Javert’s teeth were pointed.

            Then his eyes suddenly became a bright green color as his pupils shrunk and turned into slits. Oh great. What else could go wrong today? “I don’t think so,” Javert literally growled (seriously what the hell?), “I think you’re going to come with me, this time, Half-Blood.” He tightened his grip to the point where I thought my wrist was going to break. That probably would have been less painful than what really happened. I felt his nails –no _claws_ \- dig into my skin. I hissed through my teeth.

            “Hey! Release him, dragon!” I turned and stared incredulously at Marius. Why hadn’t he run for help yet? Hell, why hadn’t he done _anything_ yet? He discarded his other shoe and his pants. Now he really looked like a goat. Even two horns poked their way out of his head. He glared defiantly at Javert, fiddling with a pocket knife. Really? What good was a pocket knife supposed to do against a dragon, or whatever Javert was supposed to be? Marius finally seemed to get things under control. He flipped open the blade and it extended into a sword. The blade didn’t look too special, but then the light hit it just right and it glowed. Javert hissed at the sword, then at Marius as the satyr began to charge. Honestly, Marius didn’t look that impressive, but I’d take all the help I could.

            However, he stopped short and threw the sword. “Enjolras, catch!” It distracted Javert enough that I could reach out a hand and grab it. The sword was lighter than it looked. Something about it just felt… Right. It was only then that I noticed it was like the swords used back in Ancient Greece. I didn’t admire the blade any more than that, slashing it toward Javert. He growled and jumped back, scratching my wrist in the process. Adrenaline kept the pain at bay, but I could still see a lot of blood dripping down from the wound.

            “Be careful, Enjolras! He’s strong!” Marius coached.

            “Really, Marius? I had no idea.”

            “You think having a Celestial Blade will win this battle, Half-Blood?”

            Seriously, what was a Half-Blood? Me, apparently. I shook myself and looked back to Javert. He looked bigger. That was probably because he had grown wings and a tail covered in scales. Before I could even begin to try and attack, he opened his mouth and a stream of fire shot toward me. I was lucky and didn’t get incinerated, but some of the flame still managed to burn my calf. Yeah, that hurt like hell. But like an idiot, I got back on my feet and charged at Javert.

            Of course, he expected it and spun. He was too fast and I got struck by his tail. I flew and hit the wall of the alley hard, collapsing on the ground in a heap. The sword fell from my hand. I tried to grab for it, but Javert kicked it away. Through blurry vision I saw him smirk and come closer. He didn’t get far, as Marius suddenly crashed into him. _Idiot._ Javert growled and turned on him. I could see steam rising from his mouth and knew Marius was about to be fried. I couldn’t let it happen. Javert was after me, not Marius. I couldn’t let someone die for me. That anger and desperate fear boiled inside of me. The streetlamp shattered. Somehow, I could sense the electricity in the light. That electricity directed itself right at Javert. I smirked softly when he cried out. It wasn’t enough to kill him, but it got him away from Marius. _Run you damn idiot!_

            I tried to get up, but my head swam and I felt something wet on the back of it. Javert came closer, raising a clawed hand. Something streaked by and Javert stumbled, a javelin sticking out of his shoulder. Another swish and an arrow imbedded itself in his chest, quickly followed by three more. Javert glared once more at me before he disappeared in a puff of gold smoke.

            “Nice shot, Ferre! You sure you don’t want to try a bow out?” I heard an overly-excited voice call before everything went black.

 


	3. Chapter 3: I Get a Lesson in Demigod 101

             _I was in a hospital room. The monitors beeped slowly and a clock ticked loudly on the wall. My mother was lying in the hospital bed, looking blankly up at the ceiling. She was paler than when I last saw her. She looked worried too. I wanted to move to her side, but I was stuck where I was. I watched as her head slowly turned to look out the window. A thunderstorm was coming. “Watch out for him,” she whispered. Her eyes slowly shut and her body relaxed. Alarms went off and her heart monitor flat-lined._

            I sat bolt-upright, sweating, panting, and very disoriented. That dream had seemed so real. At least, I hoped it was a dream. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if I had visions in my sleep. I swayed a little as the room spun. Then someone grabbed my arm and everything came to a screeching halt. “Take it easy, Enjolras. You hit your head pretty hard,” a soft voice told me with a firmness that didn’t seem to fit it. I looked around and finally focused on a face. It slowly cleared as I woke and the first thing I noticed was the other boy was kind of pale. Not sickly, but like he hadn’t been out in the sun a whole lot. His hair was dark too, probably for the same reason. Yet his eyes were bright –full of worry, yes, but bright.

            “Where am I? Who are you?” I asked, still trying to get my bearings. I was in some sort of wooden cabin. White sheets acted like walls and divided the room into small sections. Other beds took up these sections; some filled with other kids, some not. It was quiet. It had the same feel as a hospital but almost cheerier. Maybe because the sun was actually coming in?

            The guy handed me a small glass of golden liquid. “Drink.” And I did. It was probably the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Sweet like honey, but savory and not too strong. Almost immediately I began feeling better. “That’s Nectar,” he explained, “A cure-all for any wound, though the sugar-content is questionable.” He held out his hand to me with a soft smile. “I’m Joly. You’re in the infirmary at Camp Half Blood. You’ve been out for two days, which isn’t surprising. You’ve still got a bit of a concussion, but that should go away with time as long as you’re careful. Your leg healed up after the burn, but you’re lucky it wasn’t charred any worse or it would’ve had to come off.” I chuckled once and Joly looked sharply at me. Oh. He was serious?! Last I checked, this wasn’t the Civil War…

            I shook myself, getting back to the point, “Camp Half Blood?”

            Joly looked at me in surprise for a moment. Then, “The satyr who brought you here was Marius?” I nodded. “That figures,” Joly sighed, “Of course he forgot to explain… Then again you were being attacked by a dragon. And the Ismen-”

            “Hey hey! Our new recruit’s awake!” Joly turned to glare at a curly-haired, tan kid in beach shorts, specifically at his bare feet. He strolled right up to my bedside and leaned on a chair. He was… Very jovial to say the least.  

            “Courfeyrac! What have I told you about coming in here barefoot?! You and I both know that you could contract-”

            “Relax, bro. I was just playing some beach volleyball with the Aphrodite girls when I decided to come check on our charge. Looks like he’s doing pretty good.” Courfeyrac flashed a smile my way. He held out his hand, saying, “Name’s Matthieu Courfeyrac, but most people just call me Courf. I gotta say man, you had a lot of guts to take on the Ismenian Dragon like that. Most Half Bloods don’t live through an encounter like that.”

            I deftly shook his hand, my head spinning from all this new information. “Enjolras,” I replied automatically then stammered, “Ismenian…? Half Blood? Wait, _you two_ are brothers?” Honestly, there wasn’t much resemblance between the two of them besides their green eyes. And _what_ was a Half Blood anyway? I’d heard the word too many times now and still had no clue what it meant.

            Courfeyrac made to answer, but Joly put a hand on his arm. But before the doctor could explain, someone coughed. I looked up to see yet another boy walking toward me in the same orange shirt. It was only then that I noticed the shirts all said, “Camp Half Blood.” This new boy was a little more clean-cut and tidy. Even without the glasses, I could tell he was fairly smart. He seemed to radiate wisdom, but at the same time, humility. He came to stand beside the others and smiled softly.

            “I’m sorry about all of this, Enjolras. I know it can be overwhelming. I’ll do my best to answer your questions,” he said in a calm tone, “First of all, my name is Tristan Combeferre, or Ferre if you prefer. You are in a place called Camp Half Blood. TI’s a sanctuary for demigods like us; children of the gods. My mother, for example, is Athena, the goddess of wisdom. Technically Joly and Courfeyrac are half-brothers. Both of them were fathered by Apollo, the god of the sun, art, and medicine. You’re a demigod as well, that’s why the Ismenian Dragon attacked you. Monsters are drawn to the scent of demigods. If I’m assuming correctly, this isn’t the first time something like this has happened to you, right?”

            I slowly nodded. All of my life, strange things had happened, most of them involving randome attacks from random people. Everyone else wrote them off as “accidents” or blamed me for what happened. If what Combeferrew said was true, then all of it made sense. It was hard to disagree after what I had been through. So who was my father? A small part of me wanted to know, but a bitter half didn’t care and never cared. Wheover it was had abandoned me and my mother, so why should I put any effort into finding them?

            “Well, that’s why you were brought here,” Combeferre continued, “Here, you’ll be safe, but you’ll also learn how to defend yourself and fight those monsters.”

            “So it’s a training camp? How long does it run?” I asked.

            This time, Courfeyrac answered, “Pretty much. Really, it’s meant to be aSummer Camp, but some of us stay longer because we’d beu hunted down the second we crossed the barrier, or border of Camp. Monsters just can’t resist the smell of an older demigod.”

            “The older you get, the stronger your scent,” Joly clarified.

            I suddenly remembered my mother and the disturbingly real nightmare I had. I looked to Combeferre, feeling myself go pale. “What about family members? Will they go after tehm?” I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if my mother was hurt because of me.

            Combeferrre put a hand on my arm. Somehow, that motion and the calm in his grey eyes relieved me more than words could. “They typically don’t unless they’re desperate. Even then, most of them aren’t smart enough to figure out who you’re related to.” I sighed soflty and nodded. I still knew my mother would be worried sick, and that wouldn’t be good for her health.

            “Is… Is there a way I can contact someone? Is there a phone or… Something?” I asked, looking down at my bed sheets. I didn’t like expressing my emotions too much, especially to strangers. I hated begging too, unless I was desperate for help. I could usually figure things out on my own. The others were silent for a moment before Combeferre put a hand on my shoulder.

            “There are a few ways, but if you just want a simple phone-call we’ll have to go ask a friend of ours,” he said with a wink. I narrowed my eyes in confusion.

            “Technology isn’t really allowed,” Courfeyrac spoke up, “But the Hermes Cabin can get you anything.” 

\----

            After Joly looked me over one more time and deemed me fully healed, Combeferre and Courfeyrac walked me through Camp. It was nice and open with a few trees here and there. The grass was green and well-kept. Lots of kids of various ages ran around in their orange shirts. We walked past the dining area, which was a nice outdoor area with benches and chairs. I noticed there were thirteen tables. I was about to ask when we came to the cabins. Just like the tables, there were thirteen of them arranged in a semi-circle. My Greek Mythology was starting to catch up, and I remembered there were twelve main gods and goddesses. I figured the giant acropolis-looking one at the head of the circle was the cabin for Zeus. Unlike the other cabins, this one looked like it hadn’t been used in a long time. I guess Zeus didn’t have any living children. We walked toward the eleventh cabin in the circle. It looked like any normal cabin; small but homey with a nice porch.

            Courfeyrac walked up the steps and knocked on the door. “Hey, Bossuet! A friend needs a favor!” he called through the door. After a few minutes, the door opened and a tall boy started to step outside. He didn’t duck far enough under the doorframe and ended up smacking his forehead against the hard wood. He hissed, clutching at the spot and stumbling outside, nearly tripping over the threshold. Courfeyrac put a hand on him to steady him. “Geez, Suet, how many times is that now?” he laughed.

            Bossuet didn’t seem to mind the tease, even laughed along. “I’m surprised I don’t have a permanent groove in my head!” he chuckled. Only then did I notice he was balding. I blinked a little in surprise. He seemed way too young to have lost that much hair already! Or was that some demigod thing? Subconsciously, I ran a hand through my long, blond hair, grimacing at the thought of losing it.

            “So, what do you three need? I take it this is the new guy you were talking about?” he asked, then turned to me with a smile, “I’m L’aigle Bossuet, but it’s a lot easier to remember Bossuet. It’s Enjolras, right?”

            I nodded, but couldn’t help but grumble, “How does everyone know my name?”

            “Well not everyone fights the Ismenian Dragon and lives to tell about it,” Bossuet answered. He stepped back, giving us room to step inside the cabin. It was bigger on the inside, but full of bunk-beds. A few of the kids looked at us and waved a greeting. One little boy with dirty-blond hair ran right up to Courfeyrac and hugged his waist.

            “Heya, Courf! What’s up?” the kid asked.

            “Just getting Enjolras acquainted with camp,” Courf hugged the boy back and put a hand on his shoulder, “Gavroche, this is Enjolras. Enjolras, meet Gavroche, the sneakiest thief in the whole of Hermes Cabin.”

            Thief? Oh, right. Hermes was the patron god of thieves and travelers. Well, it was a good thing I didn’t have any personal belongings on me. Gavroche shook my hand and sized me up. The boy shrugged. I couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or not. Bossuet looked back to me with a curious stare. “So what is it you’re looking for? Game system? Computer? IPod?” he asked.

            “Actually I really need to call someone…”

            “Oh! Okay! Do you care what kind of cell?” I shook my head, and Bossuet suddenly kneeled down on the ground. He knocked three times  on one panel. A few seconds later, a whole square of the floor lifted up and a two girls’ heads appeared. One had black hair, the other brown. The brown-haired girl reached up and stole a quick kiss from Bossuet, who blushed a little.

            “Hey Chetta, Ep, got any cell phones? Nothing too fancy. Enjolras here just needs to call someone.

 

\----

            I really didn’t know what to make of this Enjolras. There was something about him that seemed… Different, but in a good way. He seemed strong and confident, and yet he hadn’t wanted us to see how desperate he was to contact his family. There was power in him. It made me curious to see who his immortal parent was. Ares perhaps? No he was too calm for that. He wasn’t as airy as the Apollo kids. He could be Athena’s son. It was the closest fit, but it still didn’t seem right to me. While I would gladly welcome him as a new brother, there was just something else that didn’t seem to fit. His eyes weren’t grey, for one thing; a trade-mark of any offspring of Athena. His eyes were strikingly blue though, which made me lean toward Son of Poseidon. But the Big Three had sworn off bearing mortal offspring. Of course, they had broken that rule a few times. Still, I doubted Poseidon would attempt to anger Zeus any further, especially after the Lightening Thief scare. It was quite the puzzle. I’d have to go ask Valjean or Chiron about it.

            Enjolras disappeared around an empty bunk to have some privacy with whoever he was talking with. Eponine and Musichetta stepped out of their bunker to talk with Bossuet about gathering new supplies. They were known to be the best smugglers in camp, but only known by those they trusted. They were both very clever girls. In a sense, the three of them were the Camp’s tie to the outside world. They would even find a way to send letters and packages to families of the any Half Blood. I’d used their system to send Christmas Cards to my family multiple times. My mother had a few words to say about that, but she understood how important they were to me.

            Very suddenly, Enjolras came out of his corner, quickly handed the phone to Bossuet (who then fumbled and nearly dropped it) and stormed out of the cabin. I exchanged a glance with Courfeyrac before following Enjolras outside. I grabbed a hold of his arm. “Hold on a minute, Enjolras. What’s wrong?” I asked.

            He turned such an icy glare on me that I froze in place. It wasn’t hard to miss the anger and pain in those blue eyes. His jaw was locked tight and dark shadows covered his face. Thunder rumbled overhead. I let go of his arm, staring back at him. Enjolras turned around without another word and walked away


End file.
